


waiting for a sign

by sunshinelatte



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Valentine's Day, stupid boys in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-12 00:41:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinelatte/pseuds/sunshinelatte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>steve has a secret admirer. and steve is also very clueless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	waiting for a sign

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beardsley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beardsley/gifts).



> title from "my valentine" by Paul McCartney.
> 
> almost entirely inspired after reading beardsley's amazing "like autumn leaves, we're in for change" after being overcome by my steve and bucky feelingggsssss. 
> 
> also, written on 3 hours of sleep and not enough coffee. Unbeta-ed.  
> all mistakes are my own

10 Feb 2014:

 

Captain America’s life is pretty much routine. Wake up, get to SHIELD, train at the gym, shower, paperwork, training junior agents, paperwork, run, and home. With meal breaks in between, of course. And barring surprise attacks from whichever supervillain of the moment decides to unleash panic over the good city of New York. Or overseas missions. Or Tony Stark’s Charity Balls _(note the capital letters)_. But you get the idea.

 

 

Which is why Steve finds himself staring at the photo of the Howling Commandos in his locker. How did it get in? He’s almost certainly never seen this photo before. He squints at it. They’re all dirty and sweat-stained, and he’s pretty sure Dum Dum’s moustache is entirely caked in mud. The smiles on their faces tell a different story though, and Steve is ripped by a wave of nostalgia for some of the best times of his life. He tucks the photo into his wallet and goes to shower.

 

 

When he gets home late that night, Bucky and he sit around the table, shovelling dinner into their mouths. They still eat the same way they always have, quickly and voraciously, afraid that food will be taken away from them, despite all the time in this new century. Steve has wiped his plate clean before he remembers the photo and he digs around for it to show Bucky.

 

 

“Look what I found in my locker today, Buck.”

 

 

Bucky’s grin stretches across his face when he sees the old photo. “Best times of our lives eh, Stevie? Look at me all beat up.”

 

 

Steve doesn’t miss a beat. “Didn’t stop you from attracting all the dames though.” He thinks he might have missed it, but Bucky’s smile seems to fall a little before he forces it back and shakes his head and gets up to do the dishes. He kicks himself mentally for bringing that up. Bucky hasn’t brought a dame home since well, the Cube incident and god knows how long before, he really ought to be more sensitive to his feelings. Or maybe find him a girl. There might be a couple of junior agents who could cheer Bucky up, surely?

 

 

Strengthened by his new resolve, Steve gets up with a plan to find some suitable dates for Bucky, especially with Valentine’s Day around the corner.

 

 

*

11 Feb 2014:

 

 

Steve wipes the sweat from his face with the hem of his shirt and opens his locker door to reach for a towel when another photograph flutters to the floor. He stoops to pick it up, careful to avoid ruining it with his sweat drops.

 

 

It’s a photograph of Old Brooklyn, and Steve feels the clench of memories around his heart. Somedays he’s glad he and Bucky made it out of there alive, yet others, he wishes they’d never left. Two stupid kids from Brooklyn, who had nothing but each other. He swallows down the unsaid feelings that he’s never let himself acknowledge then or now, and lets himself drift through the rest of the day on sepia-toned memories.

 

 

He retrieves the photo and shows it to Bucky while they’re lounging on the couch watching tv. Bucky’s expression grows wistful as his fingertips trace over the photo. “Thought we could take on the world then.”

 

 

Steve hates it when Bucky looks sad. He pulls Bucky into a one-armed hug and squeezes his shoulder, ignoring the cold metal of his left as it presses into his side. “We can still take on the world now, Buck.”

 

Bucky looks up at him, “Still the same stupid little shit even now.” He grins at Steve and heads off for his shower. Steve can’t quite help the little flutter his stomach gives when he realises that he’s made Bucky smile.

 

*

12 Feb 2014:

 

 

Steve opens his locker door carefully, the floor is wet and he doesn’t want to ruin any photos that might drop out. But this time he’s greeted with a small bag of chocolate instead. He opens the bag and inhales the deep, heady scent of the candies.

 

 

Chocolate was always a luxury then, and even now still. He knows he could well afford to eat chocolate every day, but it’s always been a special item for him. It’s not even Godiva or some spectacularly overpriced brand that Tony deems fit for consumption, it’s from a hole in the wall shop from somewhere in Old Brooklyn that still hand-makes their chocolates. He recognises the smell from one too many afternoons spent there trying to find his way in this brave new world before he got Bucky back.

 

 

It’s strange though, he hasn’t told anyone about the shop other than Bucky. With a shrug, he pockets the chocolate, eager to go home and share it with Bucky.

 

 

He bumps into Tony Stark in the corridor, sporting the most obnoxious pair of yellow aviators known to man.

 

 

“Capsicle! Where’re you running off to?” he peers at Steve over the tops of his aviators.

 

“Hey Tony, just wanted to get home before this chocolate melts.” He fishes the bag out of his pocket and shows it to Tony. 

 

“Why didn’t you just get them to deliver it to your place? Or pack in in one of those container thingys that Pepper always asks for?” he gestures with his hands.

 

 

“Oh, I didn’t buy this. Found it in my locker.” Steve shrugs.

 

 

Tony takes off his sunglasses and gives him an incredulous look. “Cap, you mean someone has been sneaking presents into your locker without you noticing?”

 

 

Steve starts a little. He hadn’t really thought of that, he’d been too happy to get the photos and now the chocolate, but he hadn’t given much thought as to how they ended up in his locker or who would manage to bypass SHIELD’s security.

 

 

Tony claps him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’m on it Cap. Enjoy your chocolates!” he saunters down the hall as Steve stares into his chocolates with a small amount of worry. Could it have been poisoned? Then again, nothing had happened with the first two photos, right? He decides to hash it out with Bucky at home.

 

 

Bucky’s take on the whole issue was, “Seems like you’ve got yourself an admirer, Steve,” before polishing the chocolate Steve proffered, and licking his fingers in a way that entirely makes Steve’s brain lose its train of thought.

 

 

“So I should just continue accepting all these?” Steve feels confused. Is this how modern dating is supposed to work?

 

 

Bucky chokes on his laughter as he proceeds to explain the Valentine’s Day tradition of gift-giving, with all the wisdom of someone who spends far too much time watching cable tv and bad rom-coms. Steve wrinkles his nose, not too sure how to take the news.

 

 

“Pal.” He turns to Bucky, only to catch him stealing the last piece of chocolate out of the bag, and frowns. “It’s all in good fun! Don’t get your panties in a twist. The person may just be trying to figure out what their chances are.”

 

 

He bites into the chocolate and grins. Steve frowns again and lunges at the half eaten chocolate in Bucky’s hand, licking it off his fingers before he realises what he’s doing. He straightens up abashedly and wipes his mouth, only to catch Bucky’s eyes grow dark. He licks his lips nervously.

 

 

“Uh, sorry Buck. But that’s my chocolate.” He says it huffily, as if that will excuse the fire roiling in his gut.

 

 

Bucky grins, and it’s sharp and feral, different from his usual. He licks his lips and Steve gets distracted by how plump and pink his lips are. Also, there’s chocolate in the corner of his mouth. He reaches out instinctively to wipe it off with his thumb, and when he looks up, Bucky is right there. So close. His eyes are dark and there’s a deeper emotion hidden behind them that Steve can’t quite place. He swallows and removes his hand quickly, taking a step back. Too many emotions that he can’t handle. Too many feelings. It may be a brave new world, but Steve’s not sure if he’s ready for it yet.

 

 

*

13 Feb 2014

 

Steve wonders if he should even bother with opening the locker door. He’s come to terms that the one thing he really wants, he can’t have, even in the twentieth century. He doesn’t need any more reminders of the painful reality that he exists in.

 

 

But he really needs a towel to dry off, the laundry room is so far away, and his locker is right here. He sighs, and opens the door. A quick glance inside confirms there’s nothing new, and he’s half delighted and half disappointed. It was probably for the best before things got awkward on Valentine’s Day. After all, if it isn’t the one person he really wants, he’d really rather not have anyone else.

 

 

He pulls his towel free, and starts to towel his hair when the clink of metal distracts him. There’s a chain lying on the floor, with a single dog tag attached. It looks familiar. Upon closer inspection, he realises it’s made in old-fashioned style, typical military cut and embossing rather than the fancy new round ones with rubber edges that kids nowadays seem to consider a fashion statement.

 

 

He picks up the chain and reads the inscription on the tag. It’s his name, rank, serial number, blood group and religion. He chuckles at the religion part and slips the chain over his head. Since all the information on the tag’s correct, might as wear it right? It sits against his breastbone, like it always belonged there. Steve wonders what happened to the other tag, but dismisses the thought in favour of having his morning shower.

 

 

Tony catches him on the way out to show him that video surveillance to the locker room were disabled for ten minutes at six a.m. in the morning, and returns to normal thereafter. He babbles excitedly about this being the opportune window to catch Steve’s secret admirer in the flesh and skips off excitedly before Steve has the chance to respond.

 

 

Steve shakes his head and fingers his dogtag as he leaves, eager for Bucky’s opinion on this.

 

Bucky, is of course charmed by it. “Dogtags, pal! This person musta be keeping the other half for themselves. How romantic.” He throws Steve a wink as he fingers Steve’s dogtag, and maybe it’s Steve’s imagination but Bucky’s fingers seem to graze over the tag for a little too long.

 

 

*

14 Feb 2014

 

 

Steve stares at his locker. There’s a Bucky Bear sitting comfortably on his towel. His fingers curl around it as though they have a life of their own, and then he’s clutching it tightly to his chest before he knows what he’s doing.

 

 

He lifts the bear to his face and its masked eyes seem to give him all the answers he needs. Maybe the one thing he wants, he can have, after all. Breathing seems difficult, as though asthma, his old nemesis, is back to taunt him once more as his heart thuds wildly in his chest. He grips his dog tag, feeling the chain cut into his neck and grounding him to reality.

 

 

He makes his way home, riding the subway, and walking along his usual route. He’s stopped by a street kid bearing a basket of flowers. The pleading eyes and desperate smile remind him a little too much of Bucky and himself a lifetime ago, and he finds himself shelling out a small fortune for half the roses in the basket and giving the kid a hefty tip on top of that.

 

 

He feels like an idiot as he climbs the steps of their apartment with a big smile, clutching a bunch of flowers in one hand and Bucky Bear in the other. He fumbles with the door clumsily, trying to avoid dropping the roses all over the hallway. When he finally wrestles the door open, he’s greeted by the sight of candles on the dining table.

 

 

Bucky appears, all dressed up in a shirt instead of one of Steve’s old ratty sweatshirts. He looks nervous although he’s smiling.

 

 

“Hey, Steve.” There’s something about the way he’s fidgeting and Steve suddenly realises that he might have read everything wrongly, Bucky might have a date over for Valentine’s, and he should really make himself scarce and die in his embarrassment. He should really have learnt to quit while he was ahead instead of making a fool of himself. He forces himself to reply.

 

 

“Hey, Buck.” He  jerks his head to the candles. “Got a date tonight? Just give me some time to put these down and I’ll be going.”

 

 

“Going where? And where’re these flowers from?” Bucky pokes at the roses Steve is clutching with a sweaty fist.

 

 

“Got ‘em off a street kid. What can I say, he reminded me of us.” Steve shrugs out of his jacket and makes to find a jar or vase or some sort to put them in. Bucky trails after him to the kitchen. “I’ll be out of your hair in no time, Buck.” He can practically taste the bitterness in his mouth with that sentence.  “Then you and your date can have all the time alone you need.”

 

 

“Buddy. Steve. Look at me.” Bucky’s voice cuts through his misery, but Steve refuses to quit looking for a vase. Anything to avoid Bucky’s eyes.

 

 

“Steve.” There’s gentle metal fingers on his wrist now, and Bucky tugs him up from the cupboards to meet his eyes.

 

 

“Steve.” He repeats himself. “I thought it would have been obvious. Did you not get the Bucky Bear?” his blue eyes meet Steve’s own, and Steve feels like he’s drowning in them.

 

 

“Yeah, I did.” He manages.

 

 

“Then don’t you get it?” Bucky’s eyes bore into Steve’s. “That I’m the one who’s been leaving all these for you? That I’m asking you to be my Valentine?”

 

 

Steve starts. It’s one thing to think of all these, but it’s another to hear them from Bucky himself. Hope starts to bloom in his chest and his buoyant mood from earlier creeps back. By the time he’s composed himself enough to reply, he realises that he’s taken too long, and Bucky’s got a hurt look in his eyes.

 

 

“ ‘course, if you don’t’ want to, don’t blame you.” Bucky’s unwrapping his fingers from his wrist as he says that, and his eyes have lost their light. He turns to go. “Have fun with your date, Steve.”

 

 

Steve makes a grab for Bucky, _(thank god for his super human reflexes!)_ and turns Bucky to face him. He swallows. “My date is you, Buck.”

 

 

“Don’t hafta humor me, Stevie. If I’m not your cuppa tea just say so. I can take disappointment like a grown man. ” Bucky still won’t meet his eyes.

 

  
Desperation flares in Steve’s chest. What he wants is so tantalisingly close and yet so out of reach. He cups Bucky’s face and whispers, “I want you, Buck, always have,” before he bends down to press a kiss to his lips.

 

There’s a moment of panic when he realises Bucky isn’t kissing him back, but it settles when Bucky responds to the kiss, sliding a hand around the back of Steve’s neck to pull him in. It’s everything he’s ever wanted and more, more than he could have dreamed of.

 

 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, you big idiot.” Bucky breaks the kiss off and smiles.

 

 

“Punk.” Steve retorts, and it feels like his heart will burst from happiness.

 

 

“Jerk.” Bucky smirks as he pulls Steve in for another kiss. 

**Author's Note:**

> \- nothing is accurate in terms of descriptions  
> \- not even sure if people handmake chocolates anymore but let's just forgive my hungry brain at 4 in the morning, shall we?
> 
> comments greatly appreciated! <3


End file.
